


A Popular Place

by Cartadwarfwithaheartofgold (manka)



Series: Manka Writes Friend Fiction [7]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Background Relationships, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Female Cadash/Varric Tethras - Freeform, Hawke is a menace, Male Hawke/Female Lavellan - Freeform, Nudity, Scandalized Cullen Rutherford, Sex in Someone Else's Bed, Vaginal Sex, Walking In On Someone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:01:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28302024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manka/pseuds/Cartadwarfwithaheartofgold
Summary: Keaton Hawke and Lilitu Lavellan had a good time on Cullen's desk, and Olivia Trevelyan knows just how to get revenge.
Relationships: Cullen Rutherford/Female Trevelyan
Series: Manka Writes Friend Fiction [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2022509
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	A Popular Place

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Charlatron](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlatron/gifts).



Cullen can’t believe he’s been talked into this madness. 

He also can’t believe Hawke and Lilitu had _sex_ on his _desk_ in the middle of the afternoon. 

Cullen didn’t believe in seeking vengeance via violence, his skills and warrior’s training was meant to serve man as much as magic was, but his intention had been to find the Champion of Kirkwall and throw him into the sparring ring to get a few solid hits in. 

But when Olivia is involved, his plans always come undone. 

And there’s a certain… _righteousness_ to her own thoughts of payback that he can’t quite resist. 

So he allows himself to be dragged off the battlements by the fiery love of his life. She’s grinning from ear to ear, almost bouncing with excitement, and when they enter the hallway housing Keaton’s room she darts to his door. 

It’s not locked, but why would it be? Who, _exactly_ , is brave enough to steal from Keaton Hawke? 

Olivia Trevelyan, honestly. 

She opens the door with a flourish and a grin that lands in his stomach like fine Ferelden whiskey. “After you, Commander.” 

For the love of… he’s the _Commander of the Inquisition_. This is madness and childish, he should-

In a second Olivia’s hands bury in his mantle and tug him forward with steely strength and impressive determination. “Oh no, Cullen. We’re doing this.” 

“Olivia…” It’s half a groan and she smothers it in a moment, lips pressed to his while they stumble into Keaton’s bedroom. Her nimble hands push the mantle from his shoulders, rolling against him like the wanton minx she is. 

The slow, sensual slide of her lips and tongue drives every thought from his head except the sinful ones that always linger when he thinks of Olivia. His breastplate falls to the floor and he’s pulling her to his chest, kicking the door shut behind them. 

She makes a tiny moan of satisfaction and nips at his bottom lip. It ignites something desperate inside him, obliterates the last traces of his restraint. At this moment, the only two people that exist are _them_.

And Maker, he’s going to enjoy this bit of peace. 

If he’s honest, he’s going to enjoy defiling Hawke’s bed as well. 

He lifts Olivia easily and she scrambles to lock her legs around his waist, dragging her hips against him and the hardening bulge in his pants in a way that almost makes him stumble while he navigates the room. In contrast to Cullen’s neat, orderly lodgings, Hawke’s bedroom looks like a war has been waged. There are clothes, books, weapons, and abandoned mugs everywhere. 

It’s like navigating a room full of traps and Olivia doesn’t help things by choosing to run her plump lips over his jaw, down his neck, nipping and licking until he’s almost blinded by desire. 

He trips over _something_ and they both go sprawling on the large bed, Cullen rolling to the side just in time to prevent Olivia from being squashed beneath his bulk. She laughs and immediately swings her legs over him, straddling his body with another bold smirk. 

“He needs a _maidservant_ ,” Cullen sputters in indignation. 

Olivia’s smirk turns into a cheerful grin. “And he’s gonna need new sheets.” 

She’s irreverent. Unapologetic. And _his_.

“I’m a lucky man, Olivia.” 

His statement makes her smirk soften for just the space of a heartbeat, something warm and intense in her eyes that takes his breath away.

Then she tugs at his undershirt, raking her nails up the skin as she exposes the muscles of his abdomen. “You’re about to be.” 

She rips the shirt over his head and immediately drops to press a searing trail of kisses over his chest, down the fine hair covering it and over his stomach, muscles twitching beneath her. 

The look she shoots up from beneath her lashes as she undoes his pants is enough to knock the breath out of his lungs. It’s all wicked heat and delicious promise. 

“You’re too dressed,” he rasps. 

“You’re right,” she admits shamelessly, whipping her own shirt off and revealing her pale, glorious skin. “We’ve gotta do it properly.” 

While she peels off all her clothes with artful little twists and rolls, Cullen struggles to shove his breeches down his hips in the time it takes Olivia’s clothes to vanish into thin air. 

And then, with his blighted pants still trapped around his thighs, Olivia sinks her mouth onto his cock. Cullen hisses and struggles not to buck into the sudden warm, wet heat. 

It’s too much and not enough, especially when she hollows her cheeks and sucks greedily. He mutters a half forgotten prayer from his chantry days, fisiting his hands in Hawke’s sheets. Olivia _devours_ him, hands on his hips, swirling her clever tongue around his length until he grits his teeth against the rising pleasure. 

“I thought- _Maker’s breath Olivia_ \- I _thought_ we were doing this properly?” he pants. 

Olivia releases his length with an obscene sound, licking the taste of him off her lips. “Cullen, I’m not very proper.” 

He growls and uses his own strength to yank her back up up his body. A breathless laugh escapes her swollen lips before he drags them ruthlessly back to his. His fingers sink into the plump curve of her ass and he’s overcome by possessive lust. 

It’s the only explanation for the way he rolls them over and spreads her beneath him like a feast. The desperate kisses he trails down his jaw will leave marks, and he’s glad of it. 

But there’s nothing he loves more than the sound she makes when his cock brushes her sensitive folds. She keens like a wild thing, nails sinking into his shoulders, and it’s enough to turn him feral in a moment. He throws her shapely thighs over his shoulder and turns to press a last bruising kiss onto her sensitive skin before he thrusts forward. 

The feeling of sinking into her, inch by steady inch, would be enough to make any man believe in the Maker’s grace. He moans to the ceiling, snapping forward quickly enough to tear a matching cry from her lips.

“Hold on,” he orders her, rocking back. 

Her eyes absolutely glow with hidden promise. “I intend to- ah! _Cullen!_ ” 

He drives into her with enough force to tear a rapturous scream from her throat, then another. Each cry of his name is sweeter than the last. She urges him on by meeting every thrust, wrapping her other leg around him and pulling him into her. 

Then she’s shattering, a perfect moment of stillness before she wails her approval and falls apart around him. He watches greedily for only a moment before the soft clench of her muscles drive him onwards and his thrusts lose their rhythm. He spills inside her, moaning her name, and she surges up to capture it with a kiss that’s far too sweet. 

Maker’s breath, this woman. _This woman_. 

“Feel better?” she asks as he slips from her. All he can do is give her a shy smile. 

It’s all he has time to do before the door flings open behind them. He whips around to stare over his shoulder at their intruders, expecting Hawke’s towering form. 

Instead, his eyes swing downwards and land on two much smaller figures standing frozen in the doorway. They’re mid-undressing each other, Varric’s indecently unbuttoned tunic hanging off one shoulder and _completely_ unbuttoned, his hands firmly cupping the generous curve of Maria Cadash’s rear. 

“Popular place, this room,” Maria’s wry observation breaks the silence, but she doesn’t move her own hands from where they’re tangled in Varric’s chest hair. 

Olivia laughs while Cullen chokes and sputters before getting the question out. “What are you two _doing_?” 

“ _Someone_ large and hairy broke my bed,” Varric cuts in smoothly, eyes sparkling with mischief. There’s a look there that doesn’t bode well. Cullen suspects this is going to end up in a book somewhere. 

“Well this one’s taken, but Lilitu’s is empty,” Olivia chirps. 

Maria laughs too, ducking her nose to trace down Varric’s stubble. “You pick the lock, I’ll distract the guards?” 

“Sounds like a plan, Princess.” Varric throws Cullen a wink and staggers back out of the room, dragging his own redhead after him. “Have fun!”

The door shuts and Cullen stares after it, aghast, before turning back to Olivia. “Hawke is a _menace_.” 

“He is,” Olivia agrees, reaching for his shoulders. “Which is why we should _really_ desecrate this bed.” 


End file.
